


Courage the Cowardly Dog Dean Afternoon With Benefits

by goodnightfern (orphan_account)



Series: Edifying Discourses in Diverse Spirits [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Tentacles, Transformation, Treading the Line Between Bestiality and Furry, Tricophilia, True Forms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: Sam gets a dog, and Dean falls into a hell of his own making.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I think I got [a full blackout bingo](https://postimg.org/image/63z4ccghl/) here, but your mileage will vary. My free square is "tricophilia". Hair fetish. Hell yes.

Dean stops whining about Sam getting a dog as soon as he actually sees the dog in question. It's a poodle, brilliant auburn with the softest curls he’d ever seen. The dog goes up to him and sniffs his hand so politely, puffy tail wagging, and Dean sinks his hands into curls and feels bliss.

“We should call her Rowena,” Deans says. “Because - “ he pats the poof. “Bouncy.”

“Her name is Carrot Top,” Sam says, reading from the card posted by her kennel. “Like the - is he a singer? I don’t actually know who the fuck Carrot Top is. Wasn't he in that Twista music video?”

“Well, who cares what her name is. She’s doggone gorgeous.”

“Look at you.” Sam grins. “You’re in love with this freaking dog, man. So, is she the one?”

“I don’t see anything better.” Dean looked dismissively at the nearby kennel featuring a massive wolfhound that looks too much like a Hellhound for his taste. “Let’s get her.”

“Well, first we gotta apply. And then they’re gonna send someone over to the bunker to make sure it’s safe for her, and then we wait two weeks, and then we take her home.”

“What? Why do we have to go through all that shit?”

“To prove that we’re suitable dog parents! Do you think they let a dog like this go to anyone? No. We need to prove that we are a proper family. Dean, you know what we have to do.”

“What? Tell them that we’re two brothers trying to get a dog?”

“No. We have to pretend to be married again. We are two loving parents ready for our practice kid, OK? It's the only way.”

All Dean can think about is those curls. He needs those curls in his life. “Yeah. Sure.”

Sam looks at his pants. “...And you cannot go in the office with an erection.”

“I can't help it,” Dean whines. It was her hair. It was just really soft. Maybe Dean has some Freudian shit going on for Rowena. Certainly not dogs. It’s not like Dean wants to fuck a dog or be a dog or anything. 

“You're surrounded by dogs!”

“Her hair. So… so curly. Oh, God. Ohh, god.” Yeah. No. Dean definitely wants to be a dog.

“Don't think about it!”

“Gorgeous auburn curls. Oh, fuck, Sam.”

“Look at a different dog! Make your boner go down, Dean!” 

There's a red Setter across the hall. Auburn, silky smooth, straight hair. Just enough wave and bounce. Yes. God, yes. 

“Sammy…”

“No, no. Don't you Sammy me.”

“You gotta let me touch your hair, Sam.”

“Why - what - no, Dean!”

“Please, Sammy. Please. It's the only way - You're gonna get your dog. we're gonna get our Carrot Top. But first, you gotta let me. You gotta let me, man. It’s either this or the dogs, and that really sounds like sexually abusing an animal.”

“Jesus, you're a freak,” Sam says. But he gets down on his knees. Dean reaches for his hair and - yes, there it is. Each strand of Sam's hair tingles his fingers. He wants to rub his dick in it. Come in his hair and make a mess of it, make Sam have to wash off with his fancy fruity shampoo that just smells so good -

Dean has to untuck his shirt to hide the fact that he just came in his pants. But they get the application done. Of course Rowena has to do some Jedi Mind Shit to make the shelter volunteers forget what they’ve seen in the bunker, and of course the sight of her bouncy hair has Dean panting in a closet, begging for Sam to let him touch his sweet hair. 

It kind of becomes a thing. Once Carrot Top moves in, it kind of becomes a daily thing. Dean can't help it if he can't even pet her without getting a boner.

Cas dogsits when they go out on hunts, and when Dean gets back still exhausted by the hottest siren he’s ever seen with dreadlocks down to their ass, seriously, Cas is all rumpled on the floor of the library cuddling Carrot Top and - 

Yeah.

Cas’s hair is thick. It looks like it’d have more texture than Sam’s. Dark and a little cowlicked when it hasn’t been combed. Dean nearly comes in his pants at the sight of him. But he and Cas haven’t even kissed yet and there’s a whole barrel of shit-flinging monkeys there and it would just be - 

Damn. 

That night, Dean jerks off in Sam’s hair and nearly cries when he comes. 

“Is this gonna be a problem?” Sam asks, after. “Are you gonna try to make the dog fuck you?”

“It’s a girl,” Dean says. “She’d need a strapon.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“It’s - it’s Cas, man. I gotta try his hair. I gotta feel his hair.”

“So? Why don’t you go for it?”

“I don’t know.” Dean sits down heavily on the bed. “Cas and me - we’ve been -”

“Don’t give me that.” Sam flops down on the bed with semen still in his hair. “If you asked, Cas would do anything.” 

That’s true.

Cas would do anything.

“Can I braid your hair?” Dean asks, and Sam relents. As he always does.

“No glitter this time.”

“The glitter is sexy.”

“You got those glitter plastic hair braids from Claire’s, didn’t you?” 

“Whatever,” Dean grunts. Fucking Sam will let him jack off in his hair, but he won’t let him put pink sparkly braids in. It’s bullshit. Cas would let Dean put pink glitter in his hair, if only his was long enough. 

The only problem is that Cas has been avoiding him ever since he told Dean he loved him, so Dean has no idea what to do with that. He waits until they’re back from a hunt two days earlier than they told Cas they would be home. Cas is hugging Carrot Top because he’s so pathetic. So Dean just waits and looks at him, waits for Cas to come up, and then holds out his arms. 

Cas always goes for the hug. He grips Dean like a goddamn koala and his hair smells amazing. 

“Gotcha,” Dean whispers. Just the smell of Cas’s hair is making him hard. He lets his hips do the talking, grinding into the hug. 

“Dean.” Cas says incredulously. And then, “Dean.”

Dean grabs him by the hair. “Cas. Look. I know we haven’t talked much about this and I’m kind of putting you on the spot here, but I’ve known you for god damn years and I’m done waiting. Tell me you feel the same way. Cas, baby, let’s do it doggystyle on the war room table.”

Cas’s eyes go wide. Growling, he grabs Dean by the cheeks and drags him into a painful kiss. Nearly a decade of pent-up lust isn’t pretty, but Dean can’t find it in him to give a shit. He whines, rutting against the front of Castiel’s sensible black pants. “God. You smell like Carrot Top. Cas - you gotta let me fuck your hair, man.”

Cas draws back. Looks down at Carrot Top. Looks back at him. “Dean. What you are suggesting is an abomination.”

“I’m not trying to fuck the dog! But - okay. Have you felt her hair?”

“It’s very nice, but - “

“It gets me so horny. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I wanna fuck her or I wanna be her, but I know I wanna fuck you.”

“I have an idea,” Cas says. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.”

There’s an awkward moment where Cas realizes that his wings aren’t working, and then he just - sprints away. Out the room and up the stairs. The bunker door slams.

Dean is dumbfounded and hard on the war room table. Carrot Top barks. She jumps up on the chair, then on the table, comes over to sniff Dean and Dean is way too hard and her fur is too soft and seriously, what the fuck. He falls hard off the table, has to limp just to make it to the door. 

Cas - and his truck - are gone. 

Cas also isn’t answering his phone, because Cas actually gives a crap about driving safely. Carrot Top blinks up at Dean and he hates her for a moment. Or maybe he wants to be her. He isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he needs a drink. Then another. Then he might as well drink half the bottle, try to call Cas six more times, cuddle Carrot Top and cry, and then walk on his hands and knees sniffing and woofing and pretending to be a dog all the way to Sam’s bedroom.

“Jesus, Dean,” is all Sam says.

“Woof! Arf.”

“Where’s Cas? What happened?”

“I don’t know. He just - he ran away. I didn’t even get a good grip on his hair. And he’s not answering his phone and I don’t know what to do. Sammy, please. Let me be your puppy tonight?”

“Hold on.” Sam reaches for the phone on his bedside table. “Maybe he’ll answer me.”

Of course Cas does. Dean tries to grab the phone but Sam blocks him with his arm, and Dean is too drunk to fight. So instead he curls up on the floor with Carrot Top and listens to a one-sided conversation.

“That’s - that’s great, Cas. Yeah. I’m sorry, yeah, you gotta keep both hands on the wheel. I just - oh. All right. Well. Can I - fine, fine, it’s a secret. I gotcha. See you later, Cas.”

Dean does his best impersonation of a puppy whimper. 

“Speak human, Dean.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s - you don’t have anything to worry about. He’ll be back soon, and he’ll fuck you good, all right? Now, does the puppy want to come up on the bed?”

Of course the puppy does. Sam even lets Dean whip out the glitter braids. When Dean jacks off, he stands up and wraps some of the glitter and auburn around his dick, feels the soft strands tickle his balls, and comes like a brotherfucking freight train. When Carrot Top jumps up on the bed, no one moves to push her off. Dean falls asleep with one hand in his brother’s hair and the other buried in her floof.

The longer Cas is gone, the worse it gets.

No, not worse. Better, maybe. Dean feels something new waken inside him when he’s walking on all fours. He’s considered growing out his hair - long enough for a perm, maybe. Sam doesn’t like it when Dean is crawling around the kitchen and licks the back of his knees, but it’s fun to watch him jump and squeal. A couple times, Dean tries drinking out of Carrot Top’s water bowl. It’s not gross, because Carrot Top is beautiful and clean and her saliva tastes like honey. It’s not like he’s making out with the dog. That would be -

That would be weird. 

Right?

Carrot Top is curious about what he’s doing to her waterbowl. He lets her sniff him, sniffs her butt in return. It’s a nice, juicy buttsmell. And it’s not that gross. If Dean was able to eat Benny’s ass in the dirty forests of Purgatory, he can sniff a dog’s butt in a nice clean bunker. 

It’s not like the bunker is quieter without Cas. Cas is a pretty quiet guy. 

It’s just that he isn’t there. It’s just that the kitchen has a Cas-shaped hole in it. It’s just that Cas’s favorite chairs are still pushed out and empty. But when Dean is running around on his hands and knees, pretending to be a dog and imagining he has a muzzle and some cute floppy ears, it isn’t so bad. Sometimes he smells traces of Cas, or finds a footprint bigger than his own but smaller than Sam’s, and his chest hurts a little bit, but he’s a dog now. So it’s okay.

He’s started keeping Carrot Top handy when he fucks Sam’s hair. Yeah, he’s straight up just sticking his dick in Sam’s hair now and it feels fucking amazing. One hand on Carrot Top’s head and the other on his dick. It’s great. He goes to bed and he dreams about his nose and mouth elongating into a muzzle. About more body hair sprouting from his body. His nails turning into claws. And then Dean is a dog, a good boy, and Sam puts him on a leash. Cas tells him to sit for a piece of bacon, and Dean sits. Sam tells him he’s a good boy and scratches behind his ears. Cas calls him a bad boy when he barks too much. 

The fantasies carry over to real life. Get more and more elaborate. If Dean was a dog, he’d want a choke chain. So when he was a bad boy, Sam or Cas could tug him back in line. He starts breaking rules, secretly waiting for Sam to tell him to drink from a glass, not straight from a bottle. The sad thing is that Sam doesn’t even realize it. Sam’s too whatever to dom him. He just cracks some stupid joke and when he tells Dean he’s a bad dog, it doesn’t sound serious enough. So it remains a fantasy, for now. 

When Cas comes back, Dean has dumped a load of french fries into a bowl. He’s eating it off the floor, woofing and snuffling through it. He doesn’t hear the bunker door open, or Cas coming down the stairs. What he does hear is a bag dropping on the floor, and Cas saying - in his gruff dom-voice to boot -

“Good boy, Dean.”

Dean whimpers. If he had a tail, he’d wag it. 

“Such a good boy,” Cas says, and bends down for his bag. “Does my good puppy want me to fuck him?”

“Doggystyle. On the war room table.”

“Of course. But first, put this on.”

He throws something at Dean. Something red and soft and curly and bouncy and holy shit, Cas got him a furry hat. Dean is going to keep him forever. It’s actually got ears, and the fur is so long it’s practically a wig. Dean sits on his knees and puts it on. He needs a mirror, but he knows he’s beautiful. He knows he looks just like Carrot Top now. 

“Perfect,” says Cas. “And now… Dean, I have something to tell you. This is why I couldn’t fuck you.” 

And he pulls a giant purple strap-on out of the bag. 

Years ago, Dean called angels junkless. “Cas? Is that - “

“Dean, I’ve never told you about angelic genders before. You see - I’ll just show you.”

And Cas strips. It’s ruthless and quick. Not a striptease. He just unbuckles his belt and tugs off his clothes and then there he is, six feet of sexy and tentacles.

Goddamn tentacles.

They’re black and blue and faintly glowing, curling as if they have a mind of their own. It’s like Cas has Medusa pubes or something. Dean stares.

“As you know, angelic genders are different from humans. And when we take a vessel… well. The genitalia is replaced. This, Dean, is where my true form seeps through.”

“Your true form?”

“My true form is incomprehensible to the human mind. And yes, there are lots of tentacles.”

“Tentacles? You didn’t want to fuck me because you have tentacles? Dude. I need to show you some hentai.”

“You don’t understand. My tentacles leech a highly toxic substance. It would kill you. A single touch would render your delicate gut bacteria to dust. It sets E. coli on fire. Dean, I would set your ass on fire. And that’s why I hollowed out this strapon, to fit over my tentacles.” 

Cas takes his tentacles in hand, maneuvering them into a tight coil. They slip easily inside the strap-on. Dean’s asshole quivers at the sight. In a second he’s up, grabbing at Cas, kissing him. Jesus fucking Christ, but Cas disappeared to buy a strapon to save Dean’s life. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was… I wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Best surprise ever,” Dean says, kissing him. “Wait. Hold on. Wait a second. So you have no genitals whatsoever?” 

“I have a rectum,” Cas says. “Not that it gets much use. My tentacles secrete magical angelic juice, but it’s a core component of my body. No gastrointestinal bacteria will survive.”

“Is that why you don’t poop?”

“That’s why I have never pooped.”

“Wait. So you - you just always have a perfectly clean ass - “ Dean starts, and his brain nearly shorts out because holy shit. “Sammy! Get in here!”

“I’ve been here,” Sam says, popping up from under the war table.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That I’m gonna eat Cas’s ass while he fucks you with the strap-on and calls you puppy?”

“Hell yeah. You down?”

“Dean.” Sam says, “I can’t think of a better way to spend a Tuesday night.”

Carrot Top barks, jumps up on the table. 

“You can stay, girl,” Dean tells her. “You can stay.” 

With one hand on Carrot Top and another in Cas’s hair and Cas filling him up, Dean’s never had it so good in his life. Cas fucks him through his orgasm, until Dean is shuddering and can't even speak beyond a whimpering woof. Then it's Sam's turn to fuck Cas, while Dean curls around Carrot Top and watches. He grabs them both by the hair, forcing them into messy kisses, and the sight is enough to get him hard again. After Sam finally comes inside of Cas, Dean goes down to taste Cas where he’s leaking, lap up the mess like a good puppy. 

“Good boy,” Cas moans, flung flat on the table. Sam strokes the back of Dean’s neck, scratches behind the ears and beneath the wig.

“Dean's a good doggy, isn’t he? No, Carrot Top, not you.” 

“Mmm,” Cas says. Dean shivers at their praise, but keeps working on Cas, slipping his tongue inside. “Should I let you fuck my hair, puppy? Would you like that?”

“He's been good. He deserves it.”

“Woof!” Dean says, sitting back up on his heels, Sam’s come still wet on his lips. Cas turns and sinks in front of him, and Dean’s cock slides nicely through his thick hair. He barks when he comes, and Carrot Top barks back. They bark back and forth in harmony, until Sam tells them both that they're being very, very bad dogs, and they won't get a biscuit if they don't shut up. 

“I know a better use for your mouth,” Cas says, pointing at the streaks of come in his hair. “Come on, pup. Clean it up.”

Dean bends to his task, licking and sucking on Cas’s hair.

Later, in the shower, while Cas scrubs him down with Carrot Top’s flea shampoo, Dean coughs up a hairball. It pulls him out of the fantasy a little bit - that’s a cat thing, not a dog thing, but Cas soothes him by telling him about different kinds of cats. How Persians have such soft, fluffy fur. How Cas thinks they could use another pet around the bunker.

“No way,” Dean says, “We are not getting a fucking cat.”

“Trust me,” Cas says. “I think you'll be into it. Besides, I already told Sam. It’s a done deal.”

Dean sighs under the shower spray. “Tell me about how sexy cat hair is again?” 

“It's very sexy. I'll get you another wig, if you like.”

Being a cat might be fun. Dean could knock random stuff off shelves, fall asleep wherever he wanted, meow loudly when he’s hungry. And Cas would call him a pretty kitty, and maybe get a tail for him, and he could stretch out on top of Sam’s books and annoy him, and, yeah, sure.

“And a guinea pig,” Cas adds. “A silky, long haired one.”

“I’m losing control of my life, aren't I?”

Cas kisses him under the water. Turns off the shower and slaps Dean's butt. “You never had any, pup.”

**Author's Note:**

> [thank you coldest hits and certain tumblr users (they know who they are) for this opportunity ](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/158116201880/marchs-prompt-is-mini-bingo-with-a-bingo)


End file.
